The ramblings of a psychopath
by soulless secret
Summary: A story written for my little babbu. She knows who she is. It's about Cheren, and it's pretty gorey? I don't know. ; ;   I guess I can write more for it later.


Touko, such a lovely girl. She wasn't worthy though. She was never worthy.

For years of your life, all she has ever done is ruin it. The little things everyday that she does. Leaving little hate notes around, making constant remarks about being better than you in every single way. It makes your blood boil. But today, today would be the day that you fought the battle. You're not afraid. It may not make sense, but you know you're not right in the head. You never have been, not since your father and mother ruined you.

You knew she'd never understand, and to be quite honest, you'd never planned on it either. But, soon she'd be hurt. Soon she'd be quiet, maybe even forever. But not like that mattered, just as far as she'd learnt her lesson.

A slip of an old paperclip, and you're in. Her apartment is small, and rather different. It's a lot.. pinker than expected. You'd expected her to be into My Chemical Romance, not Vocaloid. Well, mother always said that judging people by appearance got you no where. You know she's sleeping, you know where the bed is. It's not hard.

You can see her sleep. You can see her small body moving up and down in a calm matter, to the beat of her breathing. She was so peaceful. Surely, no one would know if you were to kill her on the spot. But no, what would you gain from that? You want her to suffer. Suffer for all the horrible things she'd ever done to you. Suffer for all the times she's put you down, all the times she's led you on to nothing. It's not fair. And you know that.

Your nails graze against her skin, as you stare over the body. The sharp nails leave small marks against her neck, not deep enough to leave scars though, but enough to wake her up. Maybe this is all a bad idea, maybe you should just leave, and run. No, this is a perfect idea. You know that. She's waking up a little, if you want her to die, do it quick. She wont scream.

But no. Why'd you leave it? You're weak. No. You're not, you're just not very confident. You can hear her mumble something. Something stupid. Something about not being able to hear anything, something about her being in danger. Oh, she's back asleep. Perfect.

You're scratching at her neck again. You're leaving grazes now. The feel of warm, innocent blood running over your nails. There isn't enough to give pleasure though. If only there was, it'd make you a lot happier. You wrap your hands around her neck. There's a moment where you contemplate stopping but it's not worth it. You're already tightening your grip on her neck.

She's awake now, you can hear her. She's screaming, though no one can hear except for you. Yells of 'What are you doing?' and 'That hurts!' in agony can be heard. You don't care. She's paying. The blood is all over your hands now, though. Blood was oozing from the punctures he'd made. You can tell she's in pain though. The yells and screams. You want to stop, but you can't.

Pulling your hands off, all you can think is 'Is she alive?' It scares you, but you're not going to stop. You feel around in your pocket, and there's a knife. You remember putting it there. There's also a gun. But that's for you. So if they catch you, at least you wont have to suffer. They all know you've gone insane. They all know that you two are in love. You're never going to admit it though.

You press your hand against the knife, and drag it out of your pocket. You can feel where its scarred your leg. Pain never mattered to you. It was just a sign that you still had a little bit of sanity. Though, it's all leaving. What happened to the good you? You used to be such a smart boy. A kind boy, who learnt from mistakes. If you could call them mistakes. But that doesn't matter. You want her to die. You're going to make it happen.

You feel bad, although that wont stop you. Her screams are terrible, though she's not resisting. She must be a sadist. You mumble 'Wont you struggle harder?' to her, as you press the knife against her wrist. It was worse than you'd imagined. She was in tears, not from the pain, but from the trust that you'd broken when you did this. It's not right, but that doesn't matter.

Nothing matters. You **are** right. You're always going to be right. She's struggling as you tighten your grip on her arm, and continue scratching at it with the knife. Soon you'll get to the vein. Soon it'll all be over. She's in tears. Doesn't matter. You're still fine.

Her life is flashing before her eyes. She can see everything she'd ever done to you. Everything that had ever brought this on. She was starting to realise that you are right. You always had been. And she was wrong. She was the mean one, she was the one who deserved to suffer. Throughout your whole life, you'd wanted one thing from her. You'd wanted a simple thing.

An apology.

Though, with her attitude it didn't seem to be possible. Although, she was changing. The look in her eyes as you reached her wrist. The tone of her screaming. She did one thing though. With a lot of her strength, she swallowed her pride and.

"Sorry for everything." She mumbled, through the tears and screams.

"It's so much funner when you're in need of a lesson like this, though." You laughed, removing the knife from her wrist. Was it possible that she'd just saved herself. It didn't make sense what you'd done, but you didn't care.

All you could do was embrace her. It made sense. But in this world, nothing actually made sense. There was just a small line between what you wanted and what you needed. This was both of them. At least you were happy.


End file.
